


Requiring Potter

by mee4ever



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boggarts, Dementors, M/M, Nightmares, Patronus, Some hanky-panky, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:43:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5389574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mee4ever/pseuds/mee4ever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco woke up, screaming with his mouth closed and sweating through his sheets. He'd even sat himself up in a desperate attempt in getting away from the Dementors that had chased him. It was the third time this week it had happened and it was close to a dozen in the latest month. There really wasn't another choice. Believe it, if Draco could've figured out another way, he would've taken it in a heartbeat. There wasn't. So one day, he pulled himself together, put on the most blank and condescending face he could manage and stepped up to Potter in the library.</p><p>Or the one where Harry tutors Draco in Defence Against the Dark Arts because Draco doesn't see antoher way to get rid of his nightmares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Requiring Potter

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit this got longer than anticipiated. I'm not sure whether this is based on a prompt or not???? But if it is, it's from [Lovi](http://crybabydraco.tumblr.com/) hahah! 
> 
> I highly appreciate feedback and you are also more than welcome to point out spelling or grammatical errors since English isn't my first language.

Draco woke up, screaming with his mouth closed and sweating through his sheets. He'd even sat himself up in a desperate attempt in getting away from the Dementors that had chased him. It was the third time this _week_ it had happened and it was close to a dozen in the latest month. There wasn't just Dementors on his heels, there were all sorts of weird creatures and magical beings, all of which scared Draco half to death in his sleep. Generally in real life, awake and alert, most of the things weren't even close to frightening, but somehow in his nightmares there was no way for him to escape them. It wasn't until this day, that he realised why he couldn't fight the monsters off. He literally didn't know how to. No one had ever taught him how to conjure a Patronus spell, no one had ever taught him how to fight off merpeople and even if he technically could fight off a Boggart, he'd never actually gotten the chance to do so. He just didn't know what to do in real life, so his dream self couldn't use any spells or enchantments. The Dementors was the worst. They sucked his soul out over and over, making him immobile and half-dead at times, and sometimes it left him exactly like before they'd done so. He wasn't sure which one he was the most afraid of.

So he tried learning it. It was a complete disaster and left him feeling more angry with himself than actually knowing something. The book he found was written in an academic language where most of the words were of sorts that Draco didn't know what they meant and the remaining ones didn't make any further sense without the others. He tried casting a few spells when he was alone in the dormitory but they all fell short and since there wasn't really anything to aim at, there was nothing to hit.

He became desperate when the dreams started waking him up several times a week and it started taking him hours to close his eyes again. It was irrational and stupid and he knew it. But he needed to make this go away. He needed to learn somehow.

There really wasn't another choice. Believe it, if Draco could've figured out another way, he would've taken it in a heartbeat. There wasn't. So one day, he pulled himself together, put on the most blank and condescending face he could manage and stepped up to Potter in the library. The Boy Who Lived was alone, sloped over some Transfiguration book and he looked a bit more ragged than normal. When Draco stopped at the end of the table, Potter looked up. Brows going from wonder to surprise to suspicion in less than a second.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” He asked, not letting his gaze fall.

“I know about your secret little club,” Draco answered and he had been hoping to not actually sound so threatening. More towards charming rather than the I'm-going-to-expose-you-and-possibly-get-you-expelled he accidentally now had uttered. Harry stood up too quickly, and just as quickly said:

“I have no idea what you're taking about.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“I don't want to be a part of it,” he said and it didn't really make Harry less on edge. He'd closed his books and gathered all his papers.

“But I need… want… help to learn those things,” Draco finished through gritted teeth. Harry stared at him like he evaluated the pros and cons of the situation. Draco was sure he'd find more on the con-side. He wasn't exactly number one on Potter’s friends list.

“How do I know you're not gonna rat us out to Umbridge?” Harry asked like he was actually considering helping Draco.

“I just need to know those things, Potter,” he said, “so you're just going to have to take my word for it.”

“I'll tutor you. If you keep Umbridge out of our hair.” It had gone easier than Draco could've ever anticipated and that made him second guess this. But Harry didn't seem to want to continue the conversation any further since he just walked away, leaving Draco to his own thoughts.

By reasons still unknown, Harry let it slip that they had their meetings in the Room of Requirement. He told Draco to come when the rest of them had left and that their meeting ended around eight the following day. Draco wondered for the seventeenth time that day what he was even getting himself into when he stood watching kid after kid leave. _Hermione usually goes last_ , Harry had said so when her curly hair tripped down the stairs, Draco waited another minute before slipping in front of the wall. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to ask the wall to get into the room, so he just paced back and forth, thinking _Harry Potter_. A door did appear and he entered. Harry looked up. Stood gathering things along one of the walls and he looked surprised. Like he wasn't actually excepting Draco to show up. They only nodded slightly in greeting.

The whole thing was awkward. The dark haired boy looked about as reluctant to the session as Draco felt.

“What do you want to know?” Potter asked as he dropped all the things in a pile. Draco shrugged.

“Everything.” Harry sighed but proceeded to show him simple spells to fight off Grindyloggs and other creatures that Draco mostly remembered. Harry told him the spell, what it was for and then cast it. Draco repeated the action. They didn't say a word more than they needed to. Draco could barley make himself ask whether or not it was supposed to be an “a” or and “e” in one of the spells. He regretted his choice to make this happen, about four hundred and seventy six times before Potter announced they were done for the day about an hour later. Draco left immediately. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t want to come back and he didn’t make another appointment.

Potter pulled him aside two days later and gave him a galleon.

“I’m not poor, Potter, I don’t need your charity.” He considered for a moment, while Harry sighed, and then added:

“And even if I would be, I wouldn’t want your money.” Harry rolled his eyes and pushed the coin into his hand anyway. If felt warm, like Potter had been holding it for a long time. Building up courage to drag Draco into an empty hallway, probably. The thought made Draco almost smile, but he remebered that Potter was still actually there. He held the coin up.

“What about this?” He asked, catching onto the fact that this probably wasn’t actually gold. Potter would never give him anything, charity or not, this must’ve been something else.

“It shows the date, the time. Just, do like last time.” _Come when everyone else has left._ Because Potter hadn’t told them. _Good_ , Draco thought. _Is he ashamed_ , Draco didn’t think.

“Wouldn’t want to disturb your secret meeting,” Draco said lazily and walked off. Pointedly not watching for Potter’s reaction.

He’d managed to talk himself out of going the next time. There was just one problem. The dreams didn’t stop, they just started to evolve. The small and few spells Potter had showed him worked, since none of his dreams involved the creatures they’d fought off. But. That meant that all the really bad shit was still left, the Dementors and the Boggart that turned out different all the time, like Draco’s mind couldn’t make itself up and just tossed all the fears at him. There was his dad one second, there were The Dark Lord the next, there were Boggart-Dementors. (He really _didn’t_ remember that the nothing-creature had turned into a naked man with round glasses once. That **never** happened.) So he missed the second lesson, but when the coin warmed up and set the date for the same afternoon, he had to go. The nightmares needed to bloody stop.

He waited an extra minute after Hermione had stepped out. _Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Harry Potter._ The door showed and Draco stepped in. Into Harry Potter. He didn’t have time to think, he just grabbed the closest thing so that he wouldn’t fall, which also of course was _Harry Potter_. They ended up pulling at each others robes, fists full of fabric, like they were going to fight. Or make out. No, fight, definitely fight, because Potter looked so _angry_. He even gripped Draco even tighter when he saw that it was Draco standing there, tweaked Draco even closer and said through gritted teeth:

“I thought you weren’t coming, Malfoy.”

“Well, I’m here now, so let go of me so we can get started.”

“You don’t want to wait an hour, or two?” Voice gitty but aggravated.

“No, why wo-”

“I thought, maybe it’d be fair, since you made me wait last time.” Draco hadn’t even considered the fact that Potter might have waited for him. Had literally thought that Potter would maybe hang around for all of two minutes before deciding that Draco was a no-show and leave. He’d barley given it _that_ much thought, to be honest. He didn’t want Potter to make him leave before actually teaching him something, so he let go of the other boy’s robes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you waited,” he managed to press out, even sounding a bit sincere.

“Are you taking a piss?” Potter just stared even more intensely at him, but at least he let go of Draco’s clothes and took a step back. He considered lying. It would mean Potter might actually catch him in the lie and throw him out anyway. He settled with saying as little as possible.

“No, I’m not. I need help. I need to learn this.”

“Why?”

“None of your business,” Draco spit before he could stop himself. Scolded himself for all of two moments before straightening his back. Harry looked taken aback for a second before the eyebrows once more were low over his eyes. He grinned though.

“It is if you want me to be your teacher.” Draco rolled his eyes but Potter held his stands. There was quiet and the air reeked of expectancy. Like Draco would just give up his whole life story to Harry like the other boy somehow deserved that for helping Draco out. That was so not the case and he told himself that he only answered because he was tired and didn’t want to make more of a fuzz. He sighed.

“I… I have nightmares, okay? I need to learn how to defend myself for real so I can do it in dreams.” Distanced was the sound of voice he’d aimed for but it landed somewhere around whining. Harry only nodded.

“You’re afraid of Dementors?” Harry asked when Draco wanted to learn to do the Patronus a few days later. He hadn’t slept for two whole nights and it was starting to be ridiculous. The fear in it self was bloody pathetic and it didn’t need to make his life harder than it already was.

“I really don’t know why,” he stated. The Dementors wasn’t too bad in real life, they were merely annoying.

“They’re bloody scary?”

“Eh. They don’t really affect me. I’m not going around fainting like someone else I know.” Draco didn’t correct himself by saying that he didn’t actually _know_ Potter, but Potter didn’t either so maybe it wasn’t such a big deal.

“You don’t get affected by Dementors?” Harry asked and Draco just shook his head. The other boy looked at him like he was shocked, and then all of a sudden there was pity in his eyes. Draco didn’t understand why but he didn’t want to give Potter the satisfaction of asking so he just looked away, pretended that he hadn’t seen the look. Harry told him they should wait with the Patronus for a few sessions longer. Draco didn’t have it in him to argue because that would require more explaining.

Potter started behaving differently after that though. He wasn’t nicer really, but it was like he was on a mission to make Draco - totally involuntarily of course - laugh. It was strange. Suddenly he would just bust out some really terrible jokes, which Draco was almost certain he’d gotten from the Weasel, and other times he made fun of himself - like that one time when he screwed up a spell and had muttered _so much for being famous amiright_ and Draco had choked. Not that it was funny or anything. They’d actually practiced a couple of disarming spells on each other (Draco surprised that they’d come to trust each other enough to raise wands towards one another) and when Draco had asked Potter if he had his wand at the ready the cheeky fucker had responded with _my wand is always ready_ and proceeded to disarm Draco without even batting an eye. What was Draco even supposed to make of that? He feared this was Potter’s way of flirting. When he asked “did you just use the stupefy charm or are you a natural stunner?” after Draco _had_ stunned him with a Petrificus Totalus it was the thing that did it. Potter was definitely _hitting on him_.  

“Stop that,” Draco said.

“Can’t really do much down here,” Harry said, still on the floor, petrified by Draco’s spell even if it was wearing off. He couldn’t have talked if it hadn’t been.

“Stop…” Draco started saying but he didn’t want to sound pathetic and ask Potter to stop flirting with him, because he didn’t really want to acknowledge that _Potter was flirting with him_.

“Bugger off,” Draco said instead.

“Still can’t move, can you please take this curse off of me now?”

“I should just let you stay here and rot.”

“That’s not funny, Malfoy,” Harry warned.

“Well, excuse me then,” Draco said, rolled his eyes and released Harry. The dark haired boy wiped his hands down the front of his pants, maybe to dust them off, maybe to dry his hands, Draco wasn’t sure. There wasn’t much of the blunt flirting after that, but the jokes kept coming and the self-ridicule comments. No explanation either, but Draco didn’t ask for it.

“You need one powerful happy memory,” Potter said. They were standing practically shoulder to shoulder in the Requirement Room after Draco had convinced Harry that it was about time for that Patrouns spell. (Sleeping would be nice, he’d used as an argument and Potter had looked at him funny before agreeing.) Draco didn’t understand what Harry was on about, there was words and wand movements to cast a spell, specific memories was not usually part of the equations.

“What?” Draco asked. “What kind of happy memory?”

“Something that has filled you with pure joy and you need to concentrate hard on it. It’s a complicated spell.” Draco suddenly felt nervous. There were happy memories he could choose from, but he didn’t really understand what Harry meant by _powerful_ and _pure joy_. He’d been thrilled when he was sorted into Slytherin, but it hadn’t been joyful, it’d been confirmation to himself. He’d been delighted when his father had made sure he got on the Quidditch team but it was merely a pleased feeling, he’d felt at home the first time he’d sat on a broom but that had been natural skills taking over, he’d loved every single time he’d made Potter’s (or anyone else for that matter) ears redden but that wasn’t exactly happy either, it was just funny.

“Do you have a memory?” Panic struck down and he said _yes_ before even knowing it. He didn’t. He absolutely had no idea.

“Okay, just focus on the memory, flick your wand and say the words.” Harry did so himself and a really beautiful blue-white stag emerged from the tip of his wand and it ran a lap around the room before dissolving into nothingness.

“Excpecto Patronum,” Draco said after a deep breath and he swung his wand in a light motion. Nothing at all happened. He forced himself not to stomp the ground.

“Just focus on the memory,” Harry said and Draco realised he’d actually forgotten that part completely. He didn’t know what to think of. It took him several minutes, then he realised that Harry was studying him and he cleared his throat. There was no time to waste. He chose the memory of his first kiss (it’d happened last year with Blaise in their dormitory, and maybe it’d been more exciting and exhilarating than happy per say, but he thought it might do) and tried conjuring the spell again. Nothing. He cursed under his breath and sent a Deletrius towards one of their practicing mannequins, thus making it disintegrate.

“It’s… What did you think of?” Draco snapped his head towards the other boy, not thinking for a second he would ever tell Potter that a) he was thinking about kisses in Potter’s presence or b) that he was so totally gay.

“A happy memory,” he responded flatly.

“Not happy enough. Try another.” Potter’s words didn’t sound condescending, just patient somehow. Draco thought it over again. There was a faint memory of his mother, teaching him about stars - about _his_ stars - one night when he was really young. He recalled the memory as fond, to get to know that there was something larger than him with his name and he was part of something bigger. It could work.

It didn’t. This time, he did stomp the ground like a five-year old.

“It’s okay,” Harry said and suddenly he’d put a hand on Draco’s arm as to comfort him. Draco shrugged him off and went at it a few times more. He started off just saying the spell and when he shouted it for the fifth time without as much as a flicker of light coming through his wand, Harry’s hand was back on his arm.

“Malfoy,” Potter said slowly and quietly. Draco breathed hard and destroyed another mannequin.

“It’s a very complicated spell.”

“I should be able to do it,” Draco growled.

“There are a lot of wizards who can’t, especially on their first try.” Maybe that was the case, but it didn’t help Draco in the slightest. There were still going to be Dementors flying around in his dreams, whether other wizards could make them disappear or not. The fact that he didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of Potter was also quite a big reason for his outbreak.

“Bet the famous Potter could on his first try.” Harry laughed at that.

“I fainted the first time I tried,” he revealed and grinned slightly. Draco huffed.

“You’re such a wuss.”

“You’re doing great,” Harry said. It took Draco by surprise and he looked up at Potter again, realising only now that the other boy was still holding on to his arm. The touch felt almost… intimate. For the first time, Draco felt like he actually wanted Harry to touch him and reassure him. It felt kind of good. He stepped away and ended the session with a few hurried words. He thought he heard Potter shout something about chocolate but didn’t stop to ask.

The naked man (boy, guy, lad) with the round glasses appeared in his dream for the second time, that night. With messy hair and a forehead scar and a self-confidence that was through the roof, he strode towards Draco (who was sitting on his bed in the Manor) and Draco was petrified. Some parts of him knew that this was a Boggart in a nightmare, but another part wanted to believe that it was just a regular dream, that this wasn’t something he was terrified about. Because he was. It was a different kind of scared from the Dementors, this was more personal. He wasn’t afraid of himself, not for his own sexuality or the acting on that sexuality, no, it was wanting _him_ and him not wanting Draco. Just like everything else, this was an irrational fear because it wasn’t even like Draco in reality wanted the other man either. It was just something his brain made up, like the fear of a Dementor sucking his soul out. The man in front of him was a tease. Like he knew that Draco couldn’t make himself look at anything else, he touched himself and proceeded to tell Draco that there was no way he could get that. No way that the Boy Who Lived would ever find him worthy of any type of commitment - however loose. Draco wasn’t eligible like that.

The following meeting with _actual_ Harry was almost even more awkward and humiliating than their first. Draco realised how much of Draco’s space that Potter had started to take, leaning in close to correct his stance or just throwing a hand out to push slightly at his arm to secure a better aim. The way he was standing close by at all times. Draco hadn’t flustered and flushed so much in his whole life combined like he did that one hour lesson. Harry mostly looked at him strangely and ignored it every time Draco took a step away from him by simply stepping up again. A horny teenager, was what Draco came up as a reason for his stupid _feelings_. He wanted to get laid, because even if him and Blaise had been dating and shagging last year, Draco had grown bored with him and dumped his ass just before school ended last semester. Now he hadn’t slept with anyone for _months_ and it was a pain in the ass (pun intended) after growing used to fucking on a regular basis and then go back to not fuck at all. There was just no other explanation. Uh-uh.

“What’s up with you today?” Harry asked when Draco dropped his wand for the _second_ time.

“Nothing,” Draco said hurriedly.

“Yeah, right.”

“I didn’t sleep very well,” he said.

“Dementors?” Draco shook his head.

“Boggart?” He nodded now.

“Sorry we haven’t really practiced that, it’s so hard when not actually having a Boggart. What’s yours?” The question was casually thrown but it was way too far out of Draco’s comfort zone that he flinched. It wasn’t like he could tell Potter even if he’d wanted to for that matter. He blushed, again, thinking of last nights “Harry” touching himself. He gazed down the floor.

“It changes,” Draco answered finally. “Probably a dream thing.”

“It can change for real too, if you’re deepest fears changes or if you have several.”

Harry started giving him extra lessons, outside of the ones he gave the others. He’d make Draco’s coin warm up and then meet him outside the room of Requierment and having them walk in together. It’d taken Draco a few times to realise that that was what was going on, that Harry’s actual group of friends hadn’t been there before them and that Harry met up with Draco because… yeah, because of reasons he didn’t share with Draco. He’d only said that he thought Draco could use a bit more practice on his Patronus (which hadn’t yet actually worked a single time) and then promptly ignored follow up questions to that.

Maybe it wasn’t healthy, but Draco started to enjoy the late night meetings. Even though he sucked extremely bad at the spell - they only practiced the Patronus now - he still left the room with a warm feeling in his gut, like he’d just drunk a cup of really sweet tea. It was disturbing, but he couldn’t make himself stop.

“I have a Boggart,” Harry announced a week later.

“You have a Boggart?” Draco already knew that, everyone had a Boggart, something they were scared of. He understood by Harry’s next statement that he meant a _real_ Boggart.

“A Boggart, I have one. You do know what that is, right?” Harry asked and smirked. Instead of retorting, Draco smiled back. It surprised himself and he stopped immediately.

“Do you want to practice on it?” The thought made Draco’s insides turn to ice. No, he did not want to practice on a real life Boggart, he had no idea what it would turn into. He hadn’t dreamt of _the man_ for quite a while though, the Dementors mostly captured him now. And he’d only seen that man twice, if he was really honest, so it wasn’t like it was even the most recurring thing. He decided that there was just no way the real Boggart would turn out to be _Harry_. It would just be a soul-sucking creature. Or possibly the Dark Lord.

Well. Of course he should’ve seen it coming, of course he should’ve just said no. But there he was, facing a naked Harry fucking Potter, with the real Harry fucking Potter standing right behind him. There was an audible gasp and Draco felt his heart drop. He heard Harry’s words from before echoing in his head, the same words that Professor Lupin had used a few years ago. _You need to force it to assume a shape you find really amusing._ He pictured Harry as a ballerina and screamed “Ridiculous!” pointing his wand. The Boggart changed into a  version of Harry dressed in a pink tutu and leg warmers and literally hoped itself back into the cupboard it’d been stuck in when Draco laughed at it, even though it was quite humorlessly so. He figured that the rest of Potter’s friends had had their way with it and made it weak already (totally ignoring the fact that he’d just placed himself as one of Harry’s friends). Draco turned around.

“I think we can stop practice that spell, I have it under control.” Harry’s mouth hung open and his eyes were huge.

“That was me,” he said sheepishly.

“That was you,” Draco confirmed harshly and put away his wand.

“Why was I naked?” Harry asked. Draco pursed his lips.

“It’s not like I can decide what you’re wearing.”

“So you’ve… had this Boggart before?” He didn’t answer and that was so obviously an answer that he wanted to have said no. Just because then it at least wouldn’t have been so damn easy for Harry to figure out that the real answer was yes.

“I take it this lesson is over?” Draco asked and left without getting a proper response. Thankfully Harry didn’t try to stop him either. He needed to go die of shame somewhere and wasn’t really keen on letting Harry see any of that. Enough humiliation had already been displayed.

He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to look Potter in the eye. When the galleon burned hot against his palm and showed the date and time it was exactly now, the day after the Boggart incident, he considered not going. Whatever Potter would say, it wouldn’t be pretty and Draco was all for pretty. He didn’t do messes. He didn’t really have to dwell on it for very long because when he exited the dining hall after breakfast, Saturday morning, he ran into Potter and his stupid face. Which in reality was very pretty and Draco would very much like to do that. Damn.

“Come with me,” Harry said and dragged Draco off by his sleeve. It probably looked suspicious but when Draco had finally managed to get through his head that he wanted Potter, the only thing he could think of was _I’ll come with you anytime_. It was like he suddenly had every single bad sexual innuendo Potter had ever uttered floating around in his head. Wondering whether or not Potter might have actually said them because he meant them and wanted Draco too. Dismissive of the thought he staggered into the Room of Requirement after Harry. It was the usual set up, mannequins and all. Harry turned around as he said:

“You’re a real prick, you know that?” The other boy gripped Draco’s robe once more, frowning and tilting his head slightly forward. Draco tried to get away. Harry didn’t let go of him so he just leaned back as much as he could and turned his head to the side.

“What are you doing, Potter?” He demanded to know. All at once thoughts of the previous night came rushing in, the Boggart, Harry being the Boggart. Draco’s expression darkened.

“Are you trying to scare me, Potter?” He asked sharply and Potter almost looked hurt.

“I've been giving you private lessons,” Harry said like that would totally make everything reasonable. It didn’t make any sense at all.

“So?”

“Oh. Maybe that's just a Muggle thing…” He trailed off and his gaze wandered. Muggle thing? Harry was trying to do Muggle things at him? Draco had somewhat come not to _despise_ Muggles, but it wasn’t like he was very interested or particularly fond of things that had to do with them.

“What Muggle thing, what are you talking about?” Draco said, snapped his fingers in front of Harry trying to get his attention back. .

“Never mind,” Potter said quickly, looking back at Draco again and took a deep breath . “You can’t just run away from things like what happened yesterday, without an explanation.” Draco looked away. There was just so much going on in his brain that he feared that if he opened his mouth, he’d regret anything that came out.

“Are you really scared of me?” Harry asked.

“I’m afraid...” Draco said but stopped talking. He was supposed to not be talking at all, remember?

Screw it.

“I’m afraid you don’t want me back,” he said, too fast and too open. Regretted the decision already.

“You stupid idiot,” Harry said and then they were kissing. It took way too long for Draco to realise what was happening and when he understood and was going to push Harry away, he found that he’d already slung his arms around Potter’s neck and that Potter had snaked his own around Draco’s waist. They weren’t just kissing, they were flat out making out and Draco felt lightheaded. Harry only stopped for a second to look at Draco and then dove in again with a hungry noise.

Draco had liked the Room of Requirement since he first understood what it was and how it worked. He’d loved to use it and it’d become one of his most visited and enjoyable ones for the last months. It became Draco’s _favourite_ room when he thought that it’d been so nice to have a bed right now and a second later there was one he could just fall back onto. So he did, dragging Harry with him, falling on top of him. The other boy cried out in surprise but soon he was pinning Draco to the mattress with strong arm and pointy knees, sucking at his neck.

“Don't you dare give me hickies, Potter,” because even if Draco might like to have them, he wasn't very keen on explaining them to anyone. Harry just happily sucked away at his neck even further and hummed. Draco slid his eyes closed and enjoyed the sensation for a moment before holding onto Harry and then turned them over. He went at Harry’s throat.

“If you're marking me, I'm marking you,” Draco said and bit down on some skin. Harry made an appreciative sound and even though Harry’s skin was a lot darker than Draco’s, it was still going to bruise in a way that Draco couldn't wait to see. He urged Potter to sit up and placed himself into the other man’s lap after removing both of their robes. Harry held him in place, watched him with deep fascination when Draco pulled his shirts over his head and threw them to the floor. Sitting shirtless, fiddling with the buttons on Potter’s button up and anticipating whatever would come next, Draco wasn’t really expecting Harry to look terrified and like he was about to freak out when he looked up.

“What?” Draco asked. He stopped trying to get Potter’s shirt off.

“I’ve never...” Harry started and gripped tighter on Draco’s thighs. Draco shook his head in question.

“I’m a virgin,” Harry said. Draco rolled his eyes.

“So?” The other boy’s mouth opened and closed a few times but he didn’t say anything. The look he gave Draco was hard to decipher but Draco wondered if Harry hadn’t actually thought this would ever happen either. They were mortal enemies after all. Maybe he’d been scared that Draco wouldn’t want _him_. Just a few months ago, that would’ve been true. But now. When he’d seen that Potter wasn’t actually that bad, that he could make Draco laugh, that he wanted to make Draco laugh. They trusted each other nowadays, how weird and unbelievable that was, it was the truth. Draco could raise his wand towards Harry and Harry knew it would be okay. Harry could touch Draco in a way he never wanted anyone else to. Draco was lost. So fucking gone it wasn’t even funny. He kissed Harry again. Removed his shirt and the rest of their clothing, unhurriedly and Harry just let it happen. Kissed back and helped by lifting limbs. He didn’t say much and Draco only grunted responses when he did.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Harry whispered then and Draco stared at him for quite a long time. He felt his ears turn pink when answering _me too_ , so he hid his face in the nape of Harry’s neck.

The look Harry got on his face when Draco scooted down to _go down_ was the best face Draco had ever seen. His mouth was puffy after extensive kissing, his tongue just visible behind his teeth, doe-eyes and Draco almost got up to kiss his lips again. Almost. Instead he kissed the insides of Potter’s thighs and was rewarded with short gasps. When he finally took Harry into his mouth, there was non stop-moaning and Draco relished. He was pretty good at this and Potter would most certainly agree. Harry didn’t let him finish the job. He pulled at Draco’s hair and made him crawl back up to his face, whispering _let me, let me._ Draco let him and Harry’s fingers wrapped around Draco’s cock and there was no way for Draco not to exhale deeply and crush Harry’s lips with his own. He reciprocated the gesture and soon they were both laying panting into each others mouths.

“Draco,” Harry whined and then he was coming into Draco’s fist, over his knuckles and his shaking body and desperate moans made Draco follow him right after. Hot and messy and _happy_.

Potter was a post-orgasm cuddler. Draco didn’t really mind, but he managed to grab his wand from his robe’s pocket and cast a spell to clean them up before Harry clutched him in a tight grip and didn’t let go. He murmured nonsensical and played with Draco’s hair and drew patterns over his back with his fingers. It was pretty wonderful. It seemed easy and intimate, soft. Draco was quiet post-coital, he usually was after sex so for him it wasn’t something strange. Harry seemed to take it as a bad sign though, as he started giving him worried looks and kissed every inch of Draco’s face in between staring at him. Draco tried soothing him with light touches but it only made Harry’s face grow deeper in worry.

“How are you?” Harry asked wearily eventually and Draco didn’t know what to answer. He felt at peace, he almost felt like screaming because he felt so good, he felt like there weren’t anywhere he’d rather be at the moment. How to convey that in words, he didn’t know. Instead of doing so, he just picked up his wand again and pointed it towards nothing.

“Expecto Patronum,” he said softly and for the first time there was a small band of white and blue smoke leaving the tip, soon disappearing. It wasn’t a perfect spell, it wasn’t near a Corporeal form, but it was enough to make Harry’s breath hitch. And Draco would’ve time to master it soon enough.

 

**Author's Note:**

> One of the sentences is a pick up line I found [here](http://www.jokes4us.com/pickuplines/harrypotterpickuplines.html).
> 
> Podfic will be available.
> 
> Like my stuff? [Buy me a coffee!](https://www.buymeacoffee.com/mee4ever)


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